


A Good Style

by Crowgirl, Kivrin



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Clothing, Established Relationship, M/M, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 03:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19348672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowgirl/pseuds/Crowgirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kivrin/pseuds/Kivrin
Summary: ‘No. Oh, no, we are not going --anywhere with you dressed likethat.No.’





	A Good Style

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [James Norton at the 2015 BAFTAS](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/492769) by MovieNCo.co.uk. 



Crowley stares and shakes his head slowly. ‘No. Oh, no, we are not going -- _any_ where with you dressed like _that._ No.’

Aziraphale flourishes the magazine he had brought downstairs with him. ‘Ah, ah, but it’s _very_ stylish. I _checked.’_

Crowley considers switching bodies again, then considers that that would mean Aziraphale dresses _his_ body. Instead, he points to the magazine. ‘How do I know you didn’t just -- miracle that up?’

Aziraphale looks shocked and clutches the magazine against his chest. ‘When have you _ever_ known me to falsify the printed page?’

Crowley smirks. This is a battle he can win easily. ‘Any time you wanted to get a customer out of the shop faster? And what about all those Stephanie Meyers?’ Not that Crowley had a hand in the shipment going astray and ending up at Aziraphale’s door rather than the Waterstones two streets over.

Aziraphale sniffs rebelliously. ‘Those barely counted as books. Letting them turn into something better was...merely a kindness. Anyway,’ he waves the magazine again, _‘you_ left this here.’

And with that as a final word, he slaps the thing against Crowley’s chest with an air of pure triumph.

‘Fine,’ Crowley says, taking the magazine rather than letting it hit his foot for fear it will turn his shoes into something truly horrible: probably blue and suede. ‘I’ll just blind everyone else at the Ritz.’

‘And risk them spilling your favorite vintage?’

‘They’ll be looking like fools while they do it. I’ll like that just as much! I’m _a demon!’_

‘Not a very convincing one at times, dear,’ Aziraphale says condescendingly and, while Crowley is still spluttering, waves a hand -- a hand gloved in _matching_ tartan and Crowley may never recover from the sight -- at the magazine. ‘Go on. look at the article.’

Crowley doesn't even have to flip through; the page has been marked with a neat flag and there’s a sticky note with the address of a tailor on the page opposite the picture of a young man wearing almost exactly the same atrocity Aziraphale is preening in. He glares at the photograph as though -- he squints at the caption -- James Norton could be held personally responsible for Aziraphale’s love of tartan. 

When he looks up, Aziraphale has the insufferable air of an angel who knows damn well he’s won the argument. ‘Well?’

‘Fine.’ Crowley tosses the magazine in the general direction of Aziraphale’s desk and stalks across the room to Aziraphale, slipping his fingertips over the edges of the lapels and not quite managing to smirk devilishly as Aziraphale’s breathing goes a tiny bit shallow. ‘But _I_ get to decide what happens to it after I take it off you.’

**Author's Note:**

> Started in chat (as so many good things do):  
> Crowgirl: oh god it just occurred to me: what about when aziraphale finds that awful tuxedo of james norton's? you know the one  
> Kivrin: ahahahaaaa omg


End file.
